An Understanding
by recklesslove
Summary: John comes to understand the bond Dean and Sam share. Absolutely no slash. Takes place during The Benders. Rating is for some course language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

My original plan for this story was to have John somehow interact with Dean and Sam on a hunt, and for him to observe firsthand on tight their bond as brothers is. But then "The Benders" aired, and I realized that that was a perfect hunt for him to see this on. So the basic premise of "The Benders" is used here, as are a few of the lines I liked the most, or that were most crucial.

Please leave reviews-they make me so happy, and they make me want to keep writing.

The first sign came immediately, the minute I stepped foot in the hotel room. The boys were curled up in their beds, Dean on his back with his arm flung over the side, Sam on his stomach with his feet stretching over the end of the bed.

But as soon as my first footstep sounded on the badly carpeted floor, Dean was up, and he had himself planted in front of Sam's bed, completely shielding Sam from my view. Sam stirred slightly, but Dean put a hand out to him. "Stay there, Sammy," Dean said, drawing his gun out.

"So you still call him that," I answered softly.

Dean moved forward slightly, squinting in the darkness. "Dad?" he asked hesitantly, and I took a few more steps until I was illuminated in the light from the lamp Sam had just flicked on.

Sam moved next to Dean, quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I thought you were in California," Sam said, attempting to sound casual as he smoothed back his sleep-tousled hair.

"I was, but I heard about your visions, Sam, and I knew I could help," I said, and for a second I would swear I saw Dean flinch.

"I've got it covered," Dean said in a steely tone, and Sam moved closer to Dean until their shoulders were touching.

"I'm sure you're looking out for Sam, Dean, but you can't protect him from this," I said, walking until I was directly in front of them. Instinctively I knew my next words would force Dean to listen to me. "He could get hurt."

Dean sighed, then grabbed his coat. "Let's go talk about this somewhere else," he said, waiting until Sam was out the door before following, effectively cutting me off.

Climbing into the driver's seat of the Impala, Dean settled himself in. I moved towards the front passenger door, but Sam's hand was already on the handle, his lanky body already sliding into the passenger seat. So I settled into the back and into an awkward silence.

The silence was soon filled as Dean reached over and turned on the tape player, Led Zepplin suddenly blaring through the speakers. I saw Sam shoot Dean a grateful look, but before I could say anything we had pulled up to a dingy looking bar.

We walked inside and grabbed drinks, sitting down at a table by the dart board. Dean immediately stood up, tossing the darts fiercely at the board. "Sammy, without even looking I can tell you haven't had a sip of your beer," Dean said, throwing another dart.

Sam laughed, and took a sip. "It's Sam, and I just did so…so there."

"Ah good retort there, Sammy." Dean laughed, and hit another bullseye.

"Sammy," I said, and Dean's next dart went completely off the mark. Sam, about to take another sip of his beer, held the glass in mid air. I plowed on. "Tell me what's been going on."

Sam looked at Dean, who had stopped throwing darts and come back to sit at the table, taking a swig of his beer in the process. "Ok, well a little while ago I started having visions of people dying before they actually died. I could see every detail of what happened."

"Did you manifest any other powers?" I asked, leaning forward on the table.

"I…um…I can move things," Sam said, once again looking to Dean. "With my mind."

"Whenever you want?" I had to admit to myself, this was not a piece of news I had anticipated.

"No, um…" Sam sighed, beginning to fiddle with the ashtray. "It's only happened once. I…ok, I got locked in a closet and I had a vision of Dean…of Dean dying. So I screamed, and the cabinet flew away from the door and I could get out."

"So the ability must be linked to seeing people die." I took a sip of my beer, finding myself jotting down a few notes in my notebook.

"No." As Sam spoke, I looked up in surprise. "No, I don't think so. Because I had visions of other people dying, and I never had a…reaction like that." His gaze flickered to Dean, who was staring at Sam intently.

"Trust me, Sammy, you were probably just too far away from those people or something." After I spoke, hurt flashed across Sam's face. I didn't understand, so I stood up and headed for the bar. "I'm gonna see if they have any food. I'll meet you guys at the car."

"I'll meet you by the car, Sam," Dean said, standing up also. "I have to go take a leak." Sam laughed, and headed out the door. After grabbing a few suspicious looking sandwiches, I met up with Dean as he came out of the bathroom, and we headed to the parking lot.

Making our way to the car, Dean suddenly broke out into a run, sprinting for the Impala. As I got closer, I could make out some papers lying on the trunk of the car. Dean threw open the car door, and stuck his head in. When he emerged, his face had completely changed. He was panic-stricken, eyes wide, breath ragged.

Dean ran up to a group of bikers emerging from the bar, and began questioning them about Sam. They had nothing to say, and he quickly abandoned them, moving around the parking lot. "Sam! Sammy!" he called, and as he continued to get no response his yelling got louder and more frantic.

I moved up to him, putting my hands on his shoulders. "Dean, you have to calm down. I'm sure Sam is fine."

Dean stared at me, his voice shaky. "Dad, you don't understand. We came here, to this town, because huge amounts of people are going missing. And they aren't coming back."


	2. Chapter 2

The news shocked me, but as always I didn't let it show. "Dean, you have to stay calm," I said, stepping into the path of his pacing. "Tell me about what you know."

Taking a deep shaky breath, Dean leaned against the Impala. "A kid was up late one night, saw a guy get dragged under his car, heard some strange noises. Sam and I started researching, and we discovered this town has a ridiculous amount of missing people."

"Do you have any idea what's taking them?"

"No, we were…" Dean leaned his head back, staring up at the stairs. "We were going to start on that tomorrow. That's why we were sleeping. Sam insisted we'd need an early start. And I teased him about it." Dean rubbed a hand over his face, and I could see him fighting for control.

Suddenly a truck came around the corner, making the most awful racket I had ever heard. For some reason, Dean spun around, staring at the truck as it made its way down the road. "That's the noise…" he said, making for the driver's side of the Impala.

"Dean, what are you doing?" I quickly moved over to his side of the car and put my hand on the door, stopping him.

"That noise…that's exactly like the noise the kid described hearing when the guy got taken." Dean tried to move my hand off the door.

"Dean, stop. Focus. We need a plan. We need to go back to the hotel for a couple of hours, figure out what's going on."

"We don't have a couple of hours!" Dean was yelling now, his hands clenched into fists at his side. "Sammy doesn't have a couple of hours!"

"Dean, we are going back to the hotel. That's an order." I didn't say anything else, didn't think I'd need to. I didn't even try to move his hand off the door anymore, just waited for his usual "Yes sir" and a ride back to the hotel.

Dean just stared at me for a second, than spoke just two words. "Fuck you," he spat out, then shoving me out of the way, he jumped into the driver's seat. I was barely able to climb into the passenger seat before he hit the gas and sped off after the car.

There was an uncomfortable silence for about thirty seconds before I went off on him. "Dean, I gave you an order! What the hell are you thinking chasing after some truck?"

"I was thinking that my baby brother is in trouble somewhere, and that every second we stood there talking was another second he could be dying!" Dean yelled, his fingers clenching the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were pale as ghosts.

I sighed deeply, trying to keep from raising my voice again. "Dean, I understand you're worried about Sam, but-"

"No Dad, you don't understand!" Dean answered tersely, and if he hadn't been going so fast, I felt sure he would have pulled the car over and thrown me out. "You haven't had to watch him get the life choked out of him by an extension chord! You haven't had to watch his eyes bleed, or his heart almost get ripped out, or his visions get so painful he can barely walk! And you haven't been here to joke around with him, and you weren't there when Jess died, and you can't tell when he's lying, and you haven't sat in this car with him talking for hours while he makes fun of you for still owning cassette tapes!"

"Dean," I answered, shocked at this outburst coming from my eldest son, "I know I haven't always been there for you and Sammy-"

"You don't get to call him that!" Dean's voice rose even higher, and the car swerved a little, matching his anger. "Only I get to call him that. You don't."

"Dean…" I didn't know what to say, so I kept my eyes on the road ahead. "I…frankly I didn't expect this from you."

"Why Dad? Because I'm the good little soldier?" Dean kept his eyes on the road, but I could see the fire burning in them from a mile away. "Well, not when it comes to Sam."

I watched his shoulders rise, his tension evident in every fiber of his body. I knew he expected me to yell at him, to try to order him around again, but one look in his eyes and I couldn't. "Ok," I said simply. Dean whipped his head around to look at me, but didn't get a chance to say anything, as the truck we were following suddenly screeched to a halt in front of a filthy looking ancient farmhouse.

We waited a few minutes, then got out of the car. "You swing around back," I said to Dean, and he nodded, creeping off into the trees. I went up to the front door, where I was unexpectedly met by a little girl. Before I could open my mouth, I felt something hard connect with the back of my head, and I fell into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

So sorry for the update taking forever-I am in the midst of midterm weeks and the workload is insane. I will update when I can.

As I came to, so did the pounding in my head. Rubbing the large bump on the back of my head, my eyes fell on Sam locked in the next cage. "Sam!" I called out, sliding up to the front of my cage.

"Dad?" Sam became clearer in my view, his face moving into the dim filtered light. "How you did get here?"

"Dean figured it out. He recognized the noise from the truck and followed it here."

"Where is he?" Sam now had his face pressed up against the bars of his cage, and I could see the worry in his eyes.

"I don't know," I had to admit.

"Dad, Dean could be in trouble! He could be hurt, he could be-" Sam broke off, but I knew where his thoughts were racing.

"Dean will be fine, Sam. It would seem nothing's going to stop him from getting to you." I resumed tugging on the bars, looking for a weakness somewhere in the metal, some shoddy craftsmanship from whatever was holding us.

"What do you mean?" I noticed Sam had stopped searching around the cage, and was about to order him to keep looking, but as I flashed back to the "conversation" Dean and I had had, I thought better of it.

"Well, let's just say he refused an order from me and told me to fuck off." Even I had to laugh at how strange the sentence sounded, and as I turned to look at Sam I could see utter astonishment mirrored in his eyes.

"Are you sure we're talking about the same Dean?" Sam laughed, leaning his head against the bars. "Cause my Dean…He never refuses an order from you."

"Well this time he did, Samm-Sam." I quickly corrected myself, remembering Dean's words. "I told him we needed to go back to the hotel and spend a few hours coming up with a plan. He said that you might not have a few hours, and that he was going to find you. He actually got in the car and would have driven off without me if I hadn't jumped in."

"Oh. Wow." Even in the darkness, I could see Sam fighting a losing battle with a huge grin. Suddenly we heard footsteps from the doorway, slowly moving towards us. I watched Sam tense up, crouching in the front corner of the cage.

And then we heard it. "Sam?" Dean's hope-filled voice rang out in the dimness and Sam pressed his face up against the bars again. As a grin lit up his face, for a moment a memory hit me so hard I almost staggered. Sam was six, and he was trapped in a cabin somewhere in Missouri by a demon. Another demon had me pinned against a tree in the woods, and I could see Sam's terrified face pressed up against the glass window.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, Dean had come charging up to the cabin, kicking in the door. This little boy, my little boy, had jumped onto the demon's back, effectively distracting him from Sam. The demon and Dean had exchanged blow for blow, but by the time I was able to get into the cabin Dean actually had the situation pretty well under control.

The minute the demon was dead, Dean was at Sam's side, and the look Sam gave him right before Dean pulled his little brother into his shaking arms matched the look Sam now gave Dean today.

"Are you hurt?" Dean asked, crouching down by Sam's cage, his back to me.

"No," Sam said with a laugh, raising his hands in a shrug. Dean slammed his hand into the side of the cage, a smile completely overtaking his features.

"Damn it, it's good to see you," Dean answered, his voice growing soft at the last words. He put his hand up against the cage, Sam matching his hand on the other side. "I'm gonna get you the hell out of here. Do you have any idea what opens these cages?"

"There's some sort of key, I think they took it upstairs," Sam answered, moving up as far as he could in the cage. "But Dean…they're humans. Just a creepy family of humans."

"Well I can still kick their asses," Dean replied with a smirk. "I'm going to go upstairs and search for the key. I'll be right back, Sammy, I promise." Dean suddenly turned to me. "Keep an eye on him for me, Dad, ok?"

"Of course Dean," I answered, nodding. Dean moved back towards the door.

"Hey Dean?" Sam's voice piped up.

"Yeah Sammy?" Dean turned back around.

"Be careful." Sam offered up a small smile.

"Always." Dean answered, smiling back, then turning and heading up the stairs. Sighing, Sam ran his fingers through his hair, settling back against the cage. We waited in silence for what felt like hours, until Sam suddenly clutched his head, letting out a gasp of pain.

"Sam? Are you having a vision?" I pressed myself up against the bars of the cage, unable to do anything as Sam's face contorted in pain.

"DEAN!" Sam suddenly screamed, and the locks on the cages flew open. Without looking back, Sam took off running for the stairs, me right behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters, and I borrowed the "I'll kill you all!" line from "The Benders" because it was that good a line.

A/N: Thanks so much for all your patience. I have one more midterm, but things are settled down some. I will be going home for Spring Break in a week, for two weeks, and will not be updating then-so sorry, but I need to spend the time with my family and friends. I will try to get as much up as I can before I leave. Thanks so much for all the reviews!

As Sam skirted the landing, I followed close behind him. My warning to be quiet died on my lips as Sam pressed himself against a wall, listening carefully to the noises coming from the other room.

"I wonder if he'll try to run when they shoot him," a little girl's voice cooed grotesquely.

"Shut up!" Dean yelled, and Sam and I exchanged worried glances at the shakiness evident in Dean's voice.

"He must be important to you…" The little girl grew silent for a moment, as if waiting for Dean's answer.

"He's my baby brother." There was so much defeat in Dean's voice that it hurt to listen. "Please, just…you can do whatever you want to me, just don't hurt him." A shot was suddenly heard from the basement, followed by wild cackling.

"SAMMY!" Dean screamed, voice thick and heavy with tears, and I had to hold Sam back from running to his side.

"Those bastards," Sam hissed under his breath, his eyes shooting daggers in the direction of the basement. "They know I'm not down there. They're doing that just to torture Dean."

"I bet he's bleeding like a stuck pig right now," the little girl continued, her voice taking on an eerie sing-song. "I bet your brother's crying cause it hurts so much."

"If you hurt him, I will kill you!" Dean bellowed, a sob slipping out amongst his words. "I will kill you all!" Sam turned to me, tears prominent in his eyes, and I nodded.

"I think we can take a little girl," I said. "I'm going to draw her in here." Nodding, needing no explanation, Sam slipped behind a cabinet. I looked around for something to make noise with, nothing too heavy that would alert those in the basement we had made our way up here. Settling on a particularly nasty looking jar of teeth, I tipped it over onto the floor.

For a moment there was silence, then the patter of little footsteps entering the room. She saw me and her mouth opened wide, but before she could scream, I clamped a hand over her mouth, forcing her to drop the nasty looking knife she was holding. Throwing her none too gently into a nearby closet, I barred the door.

Turning around, I saw Sam was already on his way into the next room. Following behind him, I saw Dean with his head hung low, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Dean, I'm here," Sam said gently, urgently. He dropped to his knees beside his brother, laying a hand on his arm. Dean's head shot up, his teary eyes meeting Sam's with a look of the profoundest relief.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was still shaky, and his bound hands were trembling.

"Dean, it's me, I'm fine." Sam smiled, quickly moving to untie Dean from the chair.

"I heard a shot…I thought-" Dean broke off, taking a deep breath, never taking his eyes off Sam's face.

"I know," Sam said, pausing to look up at Dean. "I wasn't even down there when they did that."

"Sons of bitches," Dean growled, the fire starting to come back into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said softly, finishing untying Dean's bonds. "I know they were doing all that to get to you."

"Yeah, well it worked, and now I'm going to kick their asses," Dean said angrily, slowly standing up. He swayed, grabbing at his arm without thinking.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked instantly, putting a hand gently on his brother's back to support him.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Shrugging, Dean took a deep breath and stood up straight. "How the hell did you get out of those cages?" I didn't miss the switch of topic, and I knew Sam didn't either, but Sam didn't press the issue.

"I had a vision, of you…I screamed, the cages flew open," Sam said softly, looking down at his hands.

"See, those visions are good for something," Dean joked, trying to keep the mood light. Growing serious, he put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm fine, Sam. Nothing bad happened to me."

I could tell Sam didn't buy that Dean hadn't been hurt, but he smiled at him anyway, patting Dean's hand. So fast I almost missed it, Dean reached over and pulled Sam into a one-armed hug, holding his brother to him for a second, then quickly releasing him and looking away.

With an affectionate laugh, Sam poked Dean in the side. "You love me," he said sing-song.

"I'm just glad to see you're not dead, alright," Dean said, fighting to sound gruff, but ending up sounding surprisingly tender.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too, jerk," Sam answered, lightly smacking the back of Dean's head. "Now let's get the hell out of here before the creepy cannibals get back upstairs." Moving slightly, Sam suddenly stopped and turned to Dean. "Dean, just…promise me you won't go in the woods."

"Sam, what-" Dean started, but Sam cut him off.

"Just promise me," Sam said again, his voice taking on a begging tone. "No matter what."

"Ok, Sam, I promise." Dean looked at Sam strangely, but sudden footsteps coming up the stairs put us all into action. Ducking behind the wall, I moved to grab the man running past us, but Dean beat me to it, grabbing the man by the throat and slamming him up against the wall.

His arm pressing into the man's Adam's apple, Dean's eyes burned hatred. "What did I tell you I would do if you hurt my brother?" Dean growled, his arm digging in tighter.

"Kill…kill us…" the man stammered out, the former bravado now gone from his eyes.

"That's right," Dean hissed, pressing his arm so hard against the man's throat I thought for sure he would shoot right through it. But suddenly Sam stepped up, putting a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam said quietly. "There's no need to kill this guy. He's only human."

Dean easily read the undertones of Sam's last words, and with another hard jab into the man's throat, Dean backed off, leaving the man doubled over, gasping for air. Fists clenched, Dean leaned his head up against the wall, but was quickly brought out of his furious state by the sound of Sam's fist solidly connecting with the man's jaw.

"I didn't get a chance to warn you, but no one hurts my brother," Sam said quietly, staring down at the now unconscious man sprawled on the floor. Dean let out an astonished laugh, then walked over to Sam, ruffling his hair.

Just as suddenly, Dean dropped to the ground, laying still. From around the corner came the last members of this psycho family, and before I could do anything, my head was also met with a hard metal object. Sliding to the ground, through my half-opened eyes, I was helpless to do anything as the men dragged Sam outside. My eyes closed and I lost consciousness just as Sam left the house, his screams for Dean ringing in my nightmares.


	5. Chapter 5

Struggling to get up, my head throbbing, I could see Dean already on his feet, blood dripping from the back of his head in a disconcertingly thick wave. Staggering, he moved towards the door, leaning against the doorframe for a moment to try to steady himself. "Dean, you…you should sit down," I said, wincing as I got up, holding the back of my head. There was no blood, just a bump. They had definitely hit Dean a hell of a lot harder.

"They're hunting him," Dean forced out, all his horror and anger and anguish coming out in those three words. Forcing himself upright, Dean lurched out the door, and I followed close on his heels. Together we headed out into the woods.

A scream tore from somewhere to our right. "Sammy!" Dean yelled, summoning up enough of his strength to tear towards the sound of the cry. "Sammy! I'm coming!"

We suddenly came upon a nightmarish scene, one of the men holding Sam's arms spread-eagled from his body while the other man gestured with a bayonet at Sam's exposed stomach, both men laughing hysterically at Sam's struggles and screams.

"Sammy!" Dean called, and Sam's eyes instantly lit on his brother. I could tell Sam was still frightened, but I could also tell he wasn't quite so scared any more. "Get your hands off-"

And suddenly Dean's words halted, and as I heard Sam scream, a wordless anguished cry, I saw why. A bayonet now extended from Dean's stomach, through one side and out the other, held by the last cackling man as he watched the scene with great joy.

Dean's knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. "Sammy…" he managed to gasp out, and then his body went still, blood pouring from his torn stomach in rivers. The man yanked the bayonet out ruthlessly, kicking Dean's body, accompanied by the sound of Sam's endless screams.

And then suddenly it happened, right there before my eyes, so fast I almost couldn't believe it. There Sam was, an elbow thrown into his captor's jaw, a kick to the stomach, a shove, a push, a flip, and he was standing over his brother's body, the warrior I had trained and the brother Dean had raised, fists clenched in readiness as the men came forward again.

I moved forward instantly to help, but Sam didn't need me. He slammed the heel of his hand into the first man's face, sending the nose twisting into a grotesque pattern of blood and flesh. Grabbing a rock from the ground, Sam crashed it down onto the man's head, a crack resounding through the trees as the man dropped to the ground hard.

The other men backed away, releasing far too late what they had unleashed with their one simple action. But Sam was already on them, taking one out with a solid punch to the jaw, pinning the other one against the tree with his arm against his throat. Grabbing the man's head by his hair, Sam slammed him back into the tree, watching silently as the man slid down to the ground, unconscious.

Without a word, just a choked back sob, Sam slid down next to Dean's still form, his fingers fumbling to get a hold on the side of Dean's neck. I could tell when Sam found a pulse, as his shoulders slid down just a little bit and his breath became a little less frantic.

Sliding his hands under Dean, Sam gently lifted him into his arms, practically flying with him back to the car. I followed behind, getting to the car just in time to see Sam settle into the backseat, Dean's pale head resting on Sam's lap. Sam was stroking Dean's hair back from his face with one hand, while he held his jacket onto Dean's blood-soaked stomach with the other.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I called the police on my cell phone while speeding to the nearest hospital, telling the cops only that I was an anonymous tipster who had screaming coming from a cabin in the woods. I figured once they found those pictures, they would arrest the whole family.

But right now my concern was my sons, Dean's physical state and Sam's emotional one. I could hear Sam murmuring to Dean desperately, and the anguished silence of Dean's non-response. "Hey Dean, I'm right here, ok?" Sam said, his voice shaking so hard I could barely make out his words. "I'm right here, so you need to hold on. I need you to hold on."

Staring straight ahead, out the windshield, I felt like an intruder, an eavesdropper on a very private conversation. I quickly realized how erroneously I had assumed that that so tight bond Dean and Sam had had when they were children would have dissipated once Sam left for college. I had expected to find them barely speaking, at best, when I realized they were hunting together again, thought it only a necessity on a search for a demon that had ripped away so many people they loved.

But as my eyes wandered to the rearview mirror, the reflection showing Sam's tear-stained face as he rested his hand gently on his brother's cheek, I knew how wrong I had been. When Sam left for Stanford, he'd left me behind, but not Dean. I should have known the minute I got that voicemail from Sam about Dean being so sick, should have read into the shaky voice and the halted breathing and the choked back sobs. But I was so stuck in my ways, my ideas, my vision of the boys as fighting machines, my vision of Sam as someone who'd left us behind forever, that I hadn't thought enough about the fact that I knew, really knew deep down, that while Sam could step miles away from me he would never be more than a step away from Dean.

We pulled into the hospital and Sam was out the door like a shot, Dean cradled gently in his arms. By the time I got inside, Dean was on a gurney, being wheeled urgently into a room, Sam right there beside him. Standing in the doorway of Room 19, I felt like such a helpless observer as nurses and doctors rushed around, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to force Dean back into consciousness. I couldn't do a thing. But Sam seemed determined that he could, and he clutched Dean's hand so tightly I couldn't tell their fingers apart.

After the doctors and nurses had left, the bleeding stopped, Dean still so unconscious, Sam still remained there, his hand wrapped around Dean's, his tears flowing freely. "Sam," I said gently, realizing how unsure I now was of how to speak to my youngest son. "Sam, why don't you go get a cup of coffee? Or at least a doughnut, something. You need to eat."

Sam shook his head vehemently, as I'd known he would, but I pushed on. "Sam, Dean would want you to take care of yourself." Looking down at Dean's pale face, Sam nodded once, slowly, then reluctantly untangling his fingers from Dean's, Sam slowly walked out into the hall.

As I prepared to pull up a chair next to Dean's bed, the monitors suddenly went wild, a terrifying straight line showing on the heart monitor. What seemed to be millions of doctors and nurses came rushing in, trying frantically to resuscitate Dean, and as the monitors blared and the doctors yelled orders and I grabbed Dean's hand, nothing got a response.

TBC….


	6. Chapter 6

Sam came sprinting back into the room, taking my place at Dean's bedside, grabbing Dean's hand in both his own. And I would swear that the minute Sam's hands touched Dean's, Dean's heart started beating again.

The heart monitor flared up, a steady beep that drew a relieved sob from Sam's throat while the nurses chattered as they left the room. A doctor stayed behind to speak with us. "It's a good sign that Dean came back so quickly," the doctor said, fiddling with his files. "But he's not out of the woods yet. The wound he received is very serious, though it did seemingly miss the internal organs. The next twenty four hours are critical."

"Thank you doctor," I said, shaking his hand, then watching as he walked out the door. I turned to Sam, who hadn't even moved to grab a chair, his body hunched over as he held onto Dean's hand. Moving quietly, I picked up the chair and set it down right behind Sam, who sat down with a grateful nod.

"Out of the woods, right," Sam laughed bitterly, staring down at Dean's face. "I told you not to go in the woods you stupid jerk." His voice was soft, tender, and I watched as he reached out a hand, resting it lightly in Dean's hair.

"Is this what you saw in your vision?" I asked, keeping my voice's volume a match for his own.

'Yeah." Bringing his free hand up to rub his face, Sam quickly replaced it on Dean's head. "I saw him…god, I saw him get stabbed, just like that." Closing his eyes with the memory, Sam let his head drop down onto Dean's chest, and I watched Sam's shoulders shake with grief and fear.

Moving behind Sam, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Sam, I'm sorry." Turning his head, Sam looked at me with very surprised eyes. "I should have believed you when you said you only moved things when the visions were about Dean. I shouldn't have…I shouldn't have diminished the bond you two share. I get that now. I thought things had changed, but they haven't…and I am very very glad for that."

For a moment, Sam stayed silently still, then he moved his head slightly, so he was both in contact with Dean's chest and with the back of my hand. Smiling, I put my other hand on Dean's shoulder, bending down so I could rest my chin on the top of Sam's head. "Sam, you need to get some sleep," I said softly. I could see Sam's protest rise on his lips and I quickly quelled it. "Here, Sam. I'm not suggesting you go anywhere. I saw what happened the last time you left. Dean needs you here."

Smiling at me, his bottom lip quivering as his gaze fell back on Dean, Sam slid out from the chair, never losing his grip on Dean's hand. Climbing into the bed, Sam settled in at Dean's side. "Dean used to let you sleep in his bed when you'd get scared of the dark," I said with a smile, remembering the many times I'd come back from a solo hunt to find Sam curled up in Dean's bed, Dean watching protectively over him, a book he had been reading Sam lying in his lap.

"Yeah, I remember that," Sam answered me with a smile of his own, stifling a yawn. "He's always been the best big brother."

"That he has." I gently pulled the covers up over them both, then surprised even myself as I leant down and gave them each a kiss on the forehead. "Night boys," I whispered, pulling the chair up next to the bed again. I watched as Sam's eyes slowly closed, as his body shifted until his free arm was thrown protectively over Dean's chest. A nurse came into the room and I gestured for her to be quiet, wanting Sam to get the sleep he so deserved, however fitful it might be.

Nodding her head, the nurse stepped closer quietly, checking Dean's vitals. She came over to me, resting her hand on the back of my chair. "Dean's doing well," she whispered. "His vitals are very good. He's fighting hard."

"He would," I answered with a smile, looking over at my two boys.

"Brothers, huh?" She smiled as she looked at them, Sam's hand still clutching Dean's, even in sleep. "Which one's older?"

"Dean." I laughed as I realized how Sam's feet stuck over the hospital bed's end. "But Sam's taller. Dean never liked that."

"I bet not. I have an older sister, and I'm taller. She hates it." Laughing, the nurse cast a sweet smile on Dean and Sam. "They must be close."

"They've always been." Leaning forward in the chair, I kept my eyes on the bed. "I don't think I ever understood how close until right now. Sam…Sam went away to college, to Stanford, and I just assumed that they'd fall apart. But then here they are, and it's like nothing ever changed."

"My sister and I, we're the same way," the nurse answered, smiling reminiscently. "My momma never understood it. Every time my sister and I would have one of our screaming fights, my momma would think we were over for good. But we never were. We still aren't."

"I still remember them when they were kids," I said with a smile. "They always looked out for each other. This one time, Sam was getting picked on at school, and I had no idea until I was called in for a parent-teacher conference. But the conference wasn't about Sam. It was about how Dean had beaten up the guy who had been picking on Sam."

"Older sibling syndrome." The nurse laughed. "My sister's the same way."

"Sam's exactly the same though. He came into that conference, flashed his puppy dog eyes, and somehow convinced the teacher and the principal that Dean pounding the guy had been an accident."

Chuckling, the nurse moved back over to Dean, straightening out his IV tube. As she bent over Dean, a smile crossed her face, and as I stood up, I could see why. Dean's eyes were fluttering open.

"Sammy…" Dean's voice was rough, like someone had scraped his throat with sandpaper, but it was still one of the sweetest sounds I had ever heard.

"Your brother's right next to you," the nurse answered, smiling down gently at Dean. "I'll go get the doctor," she said to me as she left the room.

"Hey son," I said with a smile, going over to the bed to rest a hand on Dean's shoulder. My smile grew broader as I watched Dean reach over with his hand and jab Sam in the side. Sam practically flew up, jumping so hard he almost fell off the bed.

"Hey, what the hell-" Sam broke off as he saw Dean's open eyes. "Dean!" A huge grin spread across Sam's face, mixed with the tears streaming from his eyes, and I found myself wiping away a few tears of my own as I watched him hug Dean tightly, and as Dean hugged him back.

Dean rubbed Sam's back reassuringly, moving his hand in soft circles. Sam clutched the back of Dean's neck, keeping him close. "It's ok, Sammy," Dean said softly, his hand kneading Sam's shoulder. "I'm fine."

"You stupid jerk, I told you to stay out of the woods," Sam muttered, but he couldn't keep the affection out of his voice. He never could.

"Yeah, well, you stupid bitch, when have I ever listened to you?" Dean answered with a smirk. Sam didn't pull back. If anything, he held Dean tighter, and Dean reciprocated in kind.

"When I saw you get…Dean, I thought…" Sam trailed off, his face buried in his brother's shoulder, and I watched Dean fight back tears.

"Yeah, well, I'm not, so no need to go there." Dean ruffled Sam's hair as the doctor came in, followed by the nurse from before. Sam pulled away so the doctor could look at Dean, Sam's eyes anxiously following the notes the doctor wrote.

"Well Dean, let me say you are very lucky," the doctor said, adjusting his glasses. "When you were stabbed, it missed all your organs, and just went clean through. Recovery's going to take some time, and it's not going to be comfortable, but you should heal completely."

"That's great doctor, thanks very much," Sam answered, sitting up against the back of the bed.

"When can I get out of here?" Dean said, then quickly added, "No offense." With a laugh, the doctor looked at his charts again.

"Well, we've cleaned your wound, stitched it up and bandaged it, you've slept…If I can release you into someone's care, I can get you out of here today. You just have to promise to take it easy, get lots of rest, and take the medicine we prescribe you."

Sam and I quickly looked at each other, and as our eyes met, we understood each other perfectly. "I'll take care of him," Sam said, breaking our glance to look back at the doctor.

"I'm sure you will," the nurse said with a smile, and Dean and Sam exchanged looks of confusion. I laughed, and was about to sign the release forms when Sam reached for them. The doctor looked between the two of us, and I pulled my hand back, watching as Sam took the forms and signed them.

As the doctor and nurse left, leaving a few bottles of pills behind and careful instructions Sam copied down, Dean slowly got out of bed, wincing slightly but moving well. "I gotta get changed, Sammy boy, so turn around," Dean said with a smirk.

Rolling his eyes, Sam turned around, reading over the papers. I went over to him and looked at them over his shoulder. "I know you'll take good care of him," I said softly. "You always did…always do."

"I will." Sam said, looking up at me. "I know you're not staying."

"I can't," I said simply. "There…there's still things I need to take care of."

"I know." Sam looked straight into my eyes, and as I opened my arms to him he let me hug him, resting his head in my shoulder for a second before pulling back again. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." Stepping back, I walked over to Dean, knowing he had heard our conversation. I hugged Dean to me, then let him go, watching as he walked over to Sam's side. I walked outside with them silently, noticing how Sam kept his hand near Dean's back, there at the ready if needed, but not pushing any help.

Dean climbed in the driver's seat and Sam didn't fight him, simply keeping a close and careful eye on him. When Sam climbed into the passenger seat, his long legs practically had to contort to reach a somewhat comfortable position, but somehow he still seemed to fit perfectly.

They drove off and I watched them go and I didn't worry anymore. I smiled.

THE END

_Author's Note: Well, let me say all of your amazing kind wonderful reviews pushed me to make sure I finished this before going home for Spring Break. So there it is! Hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks again for reading and reviewing! Becca_


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